Repeat Offender

I was gone, December was hard, I worked too much, I was lazy, I liked sleeping more than normal. These are all legit facts why December sucked as a month for posts for me, but I'm back baby! I have decided 2013 is going to be a year of awesome. (Don't we all say that every year? Is it ever going to get old? Am I ever going to use my gym membership as much as I do this month? SO MANY QUESTIONS) Plus, Taylor Swift's lucky number is 13 (along with millions of other people), so this obviously means I will have a lucky year, because T-Swizzle and I are obvs bff's. Whatever, lets get on with the story...it's a doozy.

Real Talk: I have already gone on a date and we aren't even a full 72hrs into 2013. (SEEEEE I told you it would be a year of awesome. And. You. Doubted. Me. *gay claps*) But this date wasn't a normal date with me, it was with Repeat Offender. ("Whaaaaat? What kind of nickname is that? Who are you Fab? You're a monster." - what I imagine you thinking. Most of my imagination of what you think of me ends with you calling me a monster. #highselfesteem) You see, Repeat Offender and I had already gone on a date before. In fact, he was the first person I EVER went on a date with 2 years ago when I began my life of online dating.

(Hey gurrrlll whaaaat?)

That's right, I went out on a date with someone I had previously dated from this site. Back when I first started I was a bright-eyed 22-year-old who saw a world of opportunity and wasn't exactly sure where my life was heading. I liked the idea that I would live the life of a nomad and told most people I was going to be moving soon to somewhere not in MD. (*cough, cough* Ahem, we all know how that turned out.) So Repeat Offender and I never really stood a chance with my Lone Ranger thought process. He was also in a different place in his life having recently come out and dealing with all of those ramifications. The world was working against us and won. DAMN YOU WORLD! 

Anywayz, I noticed in my lonely desperation, that always surrounds the holidaze of single people, that Repeat Offender had visited my profile the week before Christmas and it gave me the idea to message him to see what was new. We ended up sending these long messages back and forth and picking up where we had left off. I was confused and oddly excited about this whole thing. I kept thinking to myself, "You know him already, this isn't a blind date. You were kinda into him back then. This could really work out." Because we all know I am a sucker for throwing myself into a relationship full throttle before they actually commence...because I am normal. So we decided to set up a date for New Year's Day and see where things would take us. 

(Real talk: I wanted a picture of fireworks, but then I stumbled across this gem. How could I NOT use the American flag to describe my excitement for my big ol' gay date? Right?)

New Year's Day rolled around and I thought I had been viciously attacked by the Sandman. I had never been so tired in my life. (I probably have, but I have a flair for the dramatics. Surprissseeee) Every year I go to a New Year's Eve party in Baltimore with all of my college friends. We party, we drink, we try and remember the ball drop, and then we spend the next day recovering. Except, this year I decided that I needed to be active on New Year's Day and go on an effin' date. I was casually raged with myself. At the same time, I was really hoping this date with Repeat Offender would be worth all the movement my body was so viciously against.

When I arrived at Cheesecake Factory (because all dates in MD need to start at a chain restaurant of some sort), I was greeted by Repeat Offender who had already been there for 20min. (I might've shown up a little late. SORRY, World War III was going on in my body. Not. My. Fault. *gay clap*) We stood outside in the freezing cold while we waited for our table and this is basically where things began going downhill. How? How could they be going downhill so fast? Ohhhhh let me tell you all the ways my dears. (ruh-roh)

Repeat Offender and I began our conversation just fine, talking about the holidaze and having spent it with family. I then asked him about what he had done for New Year's Eve. Who knew that would be the wrong question to ask?

Me: Did you do anything fun last night? Party? Family? Friends?

Repeat Offender: I was talking on Facebook chat with some friends. I didn't realize it was the new year until a few minutes after midnight. 

Me: Oh, bummer. Well at least you were talking to friends! 

Repeat Offender: I guess, it's really not as big a deal as everyone makes it out to be. 

Me: I guess, but it's nice to feel like you can have a fresh start and get to do something new with yourself. 

Repeat Offender: Nothing changes though. You aren't any different than the day before. Everything is the same. 

(But, like...for realz)

I was at an utter loss of what to do in the situation. This wasn't the same person I had been messaging or the person I had met in 2010. How did this happen? Was I just tired and reading into things too much? So many thoughts were rushing through my head at that moment. I decided the best thing I could do was to forge on and get coffee as my drink once we got in to the restaurant. I was determined to make Repeat Offender a successful date. Unfortunately for me, I feel like Repeat Offender had every intention of having a downer time...in every aspect of his life. 

As soon as we sat down I ordered my coffee and he ordered a soda. (This seems minor, just go with me. Take this magic carpet ride with me and all will be explained) I was flipping through the menu trying to figure out what I wanted. Due to my inability to make a full decision before I know exactly what everyone else is having, I needed to ask him what he was looking at getting. 

Me: The menu is so huge here, always hard to decide what to get. What are you looking at getting?

Repeat Offender: I think I am just going to have this soda. 

Me: Oh, uh, that's odd. Any reason? We could've just gone for coffee or something if you weren't hungry. 

Repeat Offender: I'm starving, but I only have $5.

(How else to respond?)

Who brings $5 on a date? How do you start off with that? Why would you suggest a date at Cheesecake Factory? So many questions I will NEVER have answered because I am polite and wouldn't ask those things. Instead, I just told him to order real food and that it wasn't a big deal, I'd cover. 

The issue then lies within his choice of food. I began looking at different items and offered up the idea of us sharing a couple of appetizers to keep the meal, ya know, cheap. Somehow that didn't work out the way I wanted it to. 

Me: A bunch of the app's look really good. We could get a couple of those to share.

Repeat Offender: I'm not a huge appetizer person.

Me: Oh, well, what are you looking at then? 

Repeat Offender: Oh, uh, usually I get the Parmesan Encrusted Chicken, but that's expensive.

Me: Yeah, that's definitely a little pricey.

Repeat Offender: Definitely.

*A few minutes pass and the waitress comes over*

Waitress: What can I get for the two of you today?

Me: I'll have the Chicken Caesar Salad.

Repeat Offender: I'll have the Parmesan Encrusted Chicken.

(Really? Reaaally?)

But, like, we had just gone over how he had $5 to his name and how that was an expensive dish. I even held onto the menu for an extra minute to see how much the dish was. Do you wanna know how much it was? Do you? IT WAS $20 FOR CHICKEN. I was more than casually raged at how this night was unfolding and instead attempting to enjoy it, I was trying to figure out how it was going to affect my bank account before my next paycheck. 

Our conversation consisted of me bringing up something that could be seen as positive and Repeat Offender bringing it to a dark place. 

Me: My goal for this year is to travel more. I am planning a trip to Spain! Do you have any resolutions or goals?

Repeat Offender: Last year I tried something like that. I decide 2012 was going to be my year and instead it was just kind of there... so I don't really do those things anymore. 

Me: Well it's definitely more symbolic. 

Repeat Offender: Like I said before, nothing changed between 11:59pm yesterday and 12:01am today. 

Me: I guess. I don't know, I am hoping to also go to more concerts this year. I love seeing bands live. 

Repeat Offender: There aren't many bands I am willing to spend money on to see. It's not really my thing. 

(Shut.Up. *So many gay claps*)

Nothing. NOTHING I said could make this date any better. I picked at my food for an hour while he devoured his meal and he contemplated licking his plate. We parted ways at the front door and I promised myself not to go on a repeat date like this again. (Unless he was, like, totes the cutest of cute boyz! Ugh, I hate me sometimes)

Repeat Offender: Probably finding another sucker to buy him dinner. And complaining about it

Cheesecake Factory: Overpriced. $20 for chicken? Reallly?

Rachel Dratch: A treasure 

Fabulously Lost: Tricked, bamboozled, and aimlessly wandering in 2013. 

P.S. I have another date set up on Friday. He and I have messaged each other a bunch and talked about our joint love of argyle. I think I am in loveeeee *too fast, too soon*

  

Valentines Shmalentines

So I am sitting here the night before Valentine's Day listening to Jay Brannan and Adele with lit candles, thinking about whether or not to cancel on this guy for our date later this week. For those of you who don't know who Jay is, you are missing out on some depressingly sad songs about gay male relationships. Lezz-be-ahnist, what screams desperate and tortured like sitting alone in your cold apartment, listening to a mix of depressing and slightly more depressing music, with your off brand candles from Target.

I am most definitely one of those people who hates Valentine's Day, PDA, cute couple names, Facebook official relationships, and photos of people kissing....ONLY when I am not in a relationship. When I have someone I sometimes make sure I am doing all of those things at once (Because how the hell will people know I am happy if they don't see all of it together on Facebook every two hours. YOU know who you are, disgusting relationship people.) So as you can probably tell, I am not with anyone on this fine evening before the holiday based on love, so I am a little bitter.

The one and only Valentines Day where I had a real Valentine  (not one of my girl friends who also happens to be bitter and single and desperate enough to go out with a gay man) was kind of a dud. I was 21 and we went to a crowded restaurant in DC, I bought him tickets to his favorite band and in return I got a replacement earring for the one he helped me lose two nights prior. Romance has always been kind of illusive to me. So it should come as no surprise that in a plea for attention and validation I went on a date the night of the Superbowl, in hopes that we would fall madly in love in one week and then have each other for this fine day. And if you haven't been paying attention...you will realize that didn't happen.

The Thursday before I went to New York I decided to hop on my handy dandy GPS Gaydar device known as Grindr. Thats when I began talking to this friendly fellow who lives close to the gay bars I often make appearances at over the weekend. (Read Also: I immediately decided he was a winner because then I wouldn't have to cab it home after the bars. Slumber Parties to come!!) We chatted on and off over the whole weekend and when I got home he kept trying to get me to meet with him for a drink. I was exhausted and kept pretending that the Superbowl was keeping me at home (HA! I watched Madonna walk around with a walker on stage and I watched the last 45 seconds of the game.  Golden Girls had a marathon on...not my fault). When the game was over I took stock of my life and realized I was never going to meet anyone if my closest ideas of what a good relationship was, was solely based off of Blanche Devereaux's escapades.

So I pulled myself together into a somewhat acceptable form, sprayed cologne on, and made my way down to Central. As I walked in I found Mighty Duck sitting there, and he seemed to be more attractive than I thought he was going to be. (mainly because he was white...and I just don't do white very well.) We sat down and had a drink and kinda hit it off, things were going so well that we ordered a second and third drink. We were talking music and movies and a lot of other surface things. He then asked if I wanted to head back to his apartment to watch a movie. In my cute, but still tipsy, state I decided it would be good to watch something and have the dranks wear off.

When we got back to Mighty Ducks apartment we made a beeline for the t.v. (which happened to be in the bedroom...I'm a classy guy). I didn't notice much in the apartment because it was fairly dark, but seemed nice. We put on some crap movie on T.V. and start mackin' it up, not getting too handsy...because a lady doesn't give too much up on the first date. He pulls back a couple minutes in and we have a conversation I will never forget.

Mighty Duck: You are the first guy I am making out with since I broke up with my boyfriend.
Me: *like a total idiot, channeling my inner therapist* Ohh, what happened? Are you okay?

(What? Are you okay? WE were mackin' it on his BED and you asked "Are you okay?" Ok Dr. Buzkill lets see what the therapist finds out...)

Mighty Duck: Yeah, we broke up three weeks ago. He was such a jerk and a total deadbeat. 

Me: Awww, and what makes him a deadbeat and a jerk, Mighty?

Mighty Duck: Well he lives in bumblefuck in a house his parents own and he works in the pool industry. Plus he is old...he is like...31.

Me: Wow, that sounds really familiar for some reason. To be fair, you are 26...31 isn't that old. But hey, thats just me! What does he look like?

Mighty Duck: He is half-black and about 5'10". Omg and I didn't tell you, he has 3 kids, oldest one is 13.

Me: *Sheer terror of realization* Is his name...is it....Grandpa?????

Mighty Duck: Yeah! How did you know??

Yup, thats right....I was on a date with Grandpa's ex-boyfriend. The same boyfriend who Grandpa cheated on, with me, while on the dance floor of Central as I shook my money maker. I was completely mortified at this point and decided I needed to go to the bathroom. As I walked through the living room I  noticed a mannequin with a white suit on it,  but not just any white suit, one that had a jacket straight off of a Britney Spears tour. This jacket had silver chains and rhinestones all over it and it had feathers shooting off the shoulders. (Yes I said feathers, like duck feathers as shoulder pads). With everything else I had just been forced to digest, I decided to ignore this and just go to the bathroom. I gave myself a pep-talk and went back to his side. 

As we sat and talked more, and I sobered up more, I was beginning to notice that the decorations in his apartment were a cross between an old Victorian home and what a 12yr old girl would think an old Victorian room might look like. Mighty Duck then brought up his birthday being that Wednesday. He told me that he was going out Tuesday and Wednesday in Baltimore and DC on Thursday. Then he began talking about Saturday. 

Mighty Duck: Saturday is going to be the major party night! Did you see the gorgeous suit in the living room?

Me: Uhhhh yeah? Kinda hard to miss...its very...Gaga?

Mighty Duck: Omg I love it....I'm wearing it on Saturday to Central!!! I die! 

Me: Wow...don't you think its a bit much for Central? It's a pretty...eccentric costume...

Mighty Duck: Life is better in costume, duh!

That's not true at all. Life isn't better in costume, in fact life is fairly uncomfortable in most costumes. Unless you were picked to wear your pajama's as your costume, life is NOT more fun in costume. Also...how the hell was I supposed to make him my Valentine's date when he is obviously a bit off his rocker? I decided I needed another bathroom break at this point, since I was now completely sober and on a date with Grandpa's ex who also happened to be into dressing in Nicki Minaj's rejected tour costumes. 

When I got into the bathroom I was blinded by 3 major things I had failed to notice before, that could have tipped me off that he was a bit fem cray cray. 

1. In silver and rhinestones above his mirror was the word "GORGEOUS". (It was probably the  most inaptly named sign I had ever seen...)
2. Everything had some sort of pink on it, whether it was bows or pink letters, or just straight up pink accessories. 
3. There was a Coach make-up bag filled with make-up on the counter. He lives alone. He owns a Coach. Make-Up, Bag.

I was over this whole thing so very fast and needed to escape. When I began to open the door I saw this tiny chihuahua out of the corner of my eye. I yelped and then it scurried out of the bathroom. Shivers went down my spine as Mighty Duck yelped,

"O.M.G You let BRUISER out!"

(Yup. Yup. Yup. his dog was named after Legally Blonde)

I rushed out of the bathroom and let him know I was ill and needed to go home. He protested for a moment and then let me go. Several days later, while I was sleeping I received several texts from him: 

Mighty Duck: come over, its my birthday. [1:45am]

Mighty Duck: ??? [1:47am]

Mighty Duck: Are you on your way? [1:50am]

Mighty Duck: Come cuddle me warm [1:52am]

Mighty Duck: Guess you arent coming, but if you read this, come. [2:14am]

I ignored all of them and went on my merry way. That Thursday I ventured out on the town with gay bffls and our straight lady friend. We danced around with each other, drank obscene amounts, and had a grand time. When I got home I jumped on Grindr to see if anyone messaged me before clocking out, since it was 3am. I had several messages, one being from Mighty Duck.

"Guess you found someone to fuck tonight. Goodnight"

In my drunken stupor I decided to respond and see where this went. 

Me: Haha...whaaaat? Thats an odd greeting?

Mighty Duck: I saw you dancing with that black guy. You were dirty dancing.

Me: He is my bffl....and dirty dancing? Are we in middle school? Also did you see the white guy I was dancing with?

Mighty Duck: Yeah...is he who you are going to fuck tonight?

Me: So crude. No...the black guy and the white guy are dating. And the girl I was dancing with was a straight lady friend, not gonna fuck her either...no need to ask

Mighty Duck: So are you in bed with both the guys?

Me; No....also wtf? 

Mighty Duck: My point exactly, why didn't you talk to me

Me: I didn't see you. I was too busy figuring out which one of my unattainable friends I was going to sleep with. 

Mighty Duck: I knew it. If you aren't sleeping with them, you should come over.

Me: Really? Reaaaallly? I'm gonna go ahead and pass. Goodnight

Mighty Duck: No...come over. Now

Mighty Duck: Now?

Mighty Duck: Are you on your way?

Mighty Duck: When are you getting here

Mighty Duck: ??????

Mighty Duck: :(?

Mighty Duck: ? boo

As you can see, my new found stalker who happens to be Grandpa's ex is currently my deterrent from heading out on another random date with the "eligible" bachelors of Baltimore. (I also realized I have now dated a majority of the city #winning)

Fabulously Lost: 0 (I detracted .5 for this past date and gave it to Internet Dating)

Internet Dating: 12

Costumes: Best left to Nicki and Britney

Golden Girls: Only suitable activity for the late nights. 

Ducks and Dogs: Don't mix...unfortunate combo

Valentines Day: Sucky Holiday (unless you wanna be my valentine?)